


Feedback Noise

by alltoseek



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Community: spook_me, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: Crowley tries out some new forms to work on improving his capacity to terrify.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my indulgent betas alcyone301 and feroxargentea

Aziraphale was deep in the study of the Abbot Heidenberg's latest work, Steganographia, when a voice growled over his shoulder.

“Hey, angel, you wanna go for dinner? There's a new pub open down the village.”

“Mmm, not today, my dear. This text is fascinating. Have you heard about this recent theory regarding the use of spirits to communicate over vast distances? Quite intriguing. Could be very useful, or rather inconvenient, depending.”

An odd scratching sound filled the pause that followed, then the growly voice spoke again, “No, hadn't heard that. Down Below's been keeping me busy with other, um... things.”

Aziraphale finally lifted his head to look at his counterpart. “This is a new [look](http://imgur.com/mP3KJm0.png) for you,” he observed.

“Yeah, Down Below's been saying that the snake-serpent thing's been done to death. They want something new and horrible. What do you think of my hellhound?” Crowley sat back on his haunches, panting a bit, tail thumping slightly.

“Oh, um... it's lovely, dear boy. Excellent teeth. I like the ears.” Aziraphale reached out to pat the Hell Hound's head.

Crowley tilted his neck to encourage the angel's hand to rub behind his ears. His back leg came up to scratch again. “Oooh, yeah, right there, thanks.”

“Soooo...” said a bemused Aziraphale, “your method is evolving from one of terror to a more, uh, insidious form?”

“No,” replied Crowley, standing up, tail now drooping a bit. “I'm still trying to terrify. Not working?”

“Perhaps less with the scratching.”

“Blessed fleas,” mumbled Crowley.

“...and the tail–”

“You don't like the spikes?” asked Crowley, surprised. “I thought the dripping blood was a particularly gruesome touch.”

“Oh, no, the tail itself is very, um, intense, yes. But maybe not so much with the wagging.”

Crowley glanced over his shoulder at the betraying member, but quickly recovered. “Aw, angel, that's just for you,” he said slyly, with a wink. He sat down abruptly to scratch again. “Bless it!” he muttered. He stood up and shook his body, sending fleas and splatters of blood everywhere. “All right,” he sighed, “I'll try something different.”

~o~o~o~

A week later Aziraphale was in Sponheim abbey, a witness to the summoning of a spirit meant to convey a message, or possibly the soul of the poor fellow set in the centre of a circle of candles.

Aziraphale remained a bit unclear about the exact purpose of the event, or why the man needed to be restrained.

After much abstruse activity and esoteric intonations, a demon appeared in a burst of flame – an airborne fire that kept growing, taking shape. The face of the [fiery form grimaced maniacally at the shackled man](https://orig03.deviantart.net/2a5f/f/2007/192/8/f/sacrifice_by_njoo.jpg), who leaned back; but it was the angel who cried out in horror, “No! Crowley, mind the books! No fires in the library, please!”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 [spook-me](http://spook-me.dreamwidth.org) challenge, though it didn't turn out very spooky, sorry :-)


End file.
